Sunrise Point (Virgin River #19)(85)

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Tom woke to the aroma of coffee and bacon, the sun not yet up. He hadn’t moved an inch in about three hours; his feet were still on the floor. He groaned, coughed and stood up.

Maxie turned from the stove when he entered the kitchen. “Bear?”

“Never saw one,” he said. “But if they were hiding in the orchard, they were damn good and quiet. We saw plenty of bear shit, though. Duke outted them.”

“I heard a snore from the couch at about three-thirty… .”

“I didn’t even want to bother with the stairs. Did you get any sleep?”

“On and off. I kept waiting to hear a rifle shot.”

“Darla?” he asked.

“She went to bed not long after you left. I guess she wasn’t interested in waiting up.”

He just shook his head and scratched his itching beard. “I’m going to get a shower. I’ll be down in a few.”

He went to his room, gathered fresh clothes to take to the bathroom and stripped to his waist. The sun was still shy, but a soft glow came from outside the bathroom window. While he shaved, he thought. While he was not the least happy about the circumstances, now dealing with Darla was going to be considerably easier. He wasn’t sure how she survived in her world, but there was no way she could make it in his.

A lot of cruel things sprang to mind—like the fact that she was so self-centered she couldn’t even manage to close the orchard gate much less carry her own briefcase. He wouldn’t say these things, of course. But if he didn’t tell her there was no chemistry between them and send her on her way, Maxie just might. Maxie was getting more outspoken by the year.

He laughed to himself as he was pulling on clean jeans after his shower—he’d better lock up that rifle just in case Darla got the notion to try to convince Maxie it was time to pack up her things and go to some retirement home.

He’d barely pulled on his jeans in the steamy bathroom when he heard a glass-breaking female scream from the orchard.

“Nora!” he said aloud.

He ran down the stairs, taking them about three at a time. “Duke,” he yelled to the dog. “Duke, show me the bear!” Though barefoot and bare-chested, he grabbed the rifle as he passed through the kitchen, Duke on his heels.

Duke, apparently over his fright from last night, got low and fast and shot into the trees, snarling. Tom ran like his life was at stake…or Nora’s…and was so grateful Duke was the only one he heard growling.

She screamed again and added, “Help! Oh, God!”

Duke was way ahead and just might get the bear off Nora, even as old as Duke was. “Nora!” he yelled just so she would know he was coming. And then he turned into the trees to follow Duke, who was barking wildly. And Nora screamed again.

When he saw her, it took a second to process. Was she throwing apples at a big black bear? Screaming and throwing apples?

“Get behind the tree,” he yelled, taking aim.

Nora bolted behind the nearest tree and yelled, “Tom! Behind you!”

He turned in time to see a cub behind him; damn cubs were getting big. He had the rifle trained on the mother, who stood on her hind legs, accommodating him. He was all done playing around with this one—he fired. One. Two. Three. The first one caused her to stop, the second made her stumble back, the third knocked her down. It was a lot of rifle; she wouldn’t be getting up.

“Duke!” he commanded. “Come!” And the dog moved away from the dead bear, coming to Tom’s side.

Tom moved slowly toward Nora and the cub ran to his dead mother, standing on all fours beside her, nudging her. He looked around for the other cubs and that was when he thought he understood what had happened. Nora’s ladder was set up to take her in to the tree branches and there, in one of the big old trees, were two bear cubs.

She backed away, her hand covering her mouth, shaking like a leaf. With her back against the trunk, she slid weakly to the ground. “It’s okay now,” he said. “The cubs won’t bother us.”

She just put her hands over her face and sobbed. “God, oh, God,” she kept saying.

He heard some distant sounds—Junior’s truck, the slamming of the porch door, talking. Positioning himself so he could keep an eye on the mother bear to be sure she didn’t rally, he put his rifle on the ground and knelt beside Nora. He gently pulled her hands away from her face. “It’s all right now. It’s over.”

“I was on the ladder,” she said, her voice shaking. “I came nose-to-nose with a bear!”

“I figured. And the mother?”

“Back in there. I screamed and fell off the ladder and she came through those trees.”

“And you threw apples at her?” he asked.

She nodded. “I was going to hold her off with the ladder.”

A small huff of laughter escaped him. He put a finger under her chin and lifted, giving her a small kiss. “You scared me to death,” he said.

“Join the club,” she said, a hiccup in her voice.

“Why didn’t you come to the house when you got here?”

She gave a little shrug and looked down. “Red Caddy,” she said softly.

Tom noticed Junior out of the corner of his eye, rifle in hand and pointed down, giving the dead bear a kick to see if she moved. The action caused the cub to skitter away. The ground was getting soaked with blood—that bear was done. He looked at Nora. “Yeah, that. I didn’t know she was coming.”